


Playing Tricks On Our Hearts

by erinn_bedford



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Kisses, Shenanigans, Tumblr Prompts, a meeting place for things to short to be separates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinn_bedford/pseuds/erinn_bedford
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets based on tumblr prompts





	1. You can kiss me, darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "He's a bad kisser."

“He’s a bad kisser.”

Peter hears his girlfriend from across the room and looks up from his game to find her on the couch, surrounded by freshmen and sophomore girls.

“No way.” One of them says. Lara Jean nods and takes a sip of her drink.

“The worst.” She glances up then, her eyes finding his.

She’s laughing at him. Even all the way across the room, he can tell she’s teasing him. All from her eyes.

Gabe elbows him in the gut. “Your turn lover boy.” He says, passing him the pong ball. When he looks back at Lara Jean, she’s still staring at him,

And then she winks.

The ball misses. Completely flies off the table and rolls almost to the other side of the room.

Right to the couch.

“I got it!” Peter says, brushing past everyone and making his way to the ball, making his way to his girlfriend.

She’s no longer looking at him, but instead, listening to the one of the girls talk about her ex, but he knows she knows he’s close. They’ve been dating a while now, almost a year if you count the whole fake dating thing, and he can read her like an open book.

She’s angled slightly toward him, and the second he’s out of the crowd and into the space of the couch, she tucks her hair behind her ears.

The girls around the couch giggle. He scoops up the ball and takes two more steps until he’s close enough that he could reach out and touch her.

She slowly, _slowly_ , turns to him and meets his eyes.

“Hey Kavinsky,” she says, taking a sip of her drink.

“Sup, Covey.”

She bites her lips because she’s evil, and then he leans over, bracing himself on the back of the couch.

“How’s the game going?” Lara Jeans asks, not backing away.          

Peter shrugs. “I’m a little distracted.” He leans a bit closer, and her resolve breaks just slightly. Her eyes drop to his lips. “Maybe a good luck kiss would help.”

She gasps. Just loud enough for him to here, and, god, he loves her.

He loves this girl. This girl who knows his deepest secrets. This girl that knows his favorite movies, and who makes him cookies when she knows he’s had a bad day. His girl, who hates to drive, and loves romance novels, and scrapbooking, and apparently teasing him from all the way across the room at parties.

He loves her so much. But she’s been teasing him all night. Now it’s his turn.

She wets her lips and slides her hands into his hair.

“Just one.” She smiles as he closes the space between, and then, his lips meet hers.

The room disappears. It’s just him and her, and her hands tugging his hair, and her lips parting, his tongue swiping out to her lips and…

He abruptly pulls away and takes two steps back.

Her pupils are blown wide and her cheeks are pink, and he wants to kiss her again, he wants to take her and get into his car and drive until they have privacy, so he can kiss her as much as he wants without an audience.

But he just winks. And turns away, back toward his boys and the pong table. Gabe rolls his eyes as Peter passes him the ball.

He waits a beat to turn back to Lara Jean.

She’s still staring at him, a smile on her face.

“So…” one of the girls says.

“I lied,” Lara Jean says, making sure she says it loud enough that he can hear.

He can’t help the smile that breaks on his face.

Bad kisser his ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is where I'm going to put things I consider too short to post by themselves. So they all can be read by themselves and in any order. :)  
> Work title from Girls Like You by Denny. Chapter title from Kiss me, Kill me by La Bouquet. You can send me prompts or just hit me up to chat over on tumblr [here!](http://fallinfor-youreyes.tumblr.com/)


	2. Looked Like A Teenage Runaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Eat Your lunch and you wouldn't be hungry."

“Lara Jean.”

“Mhmm.” She glances up from her book to look at Peter. He’s spread across bleachers, long legs dangling off the sides.

He lifts his head and not for the first time, she’s struck with how beautiful he is.

Peter’s hair is extra curly today and he’s wearing a cozy sweater, and he looks so good it almost makes her heart hurt. Because this is not real.

“Do you have any cookies today?”

The question is innocent enough. But his eyes are bearing into hers, and her heart is stuttering, and brain is just not working.

He licks his lips and raises a single eyebrow. “Covey?”

“Not today.” She eventually stumbles out, tearing her eyes away from him and forcing them back on her book.

“Ugh!” He groans, his head dropping back onto the bleachers. “I’m so hungry.”

Lara Jean tosses one of her carrots at him.

“Eat your lunch and you wouldn’t be hungry.” She says. He groans again, but she forces herself to read her book.

A half-eaten carrot collides with her cheek.

“I accidentally took Owen’s lunch instead of mine. And I hate mustard.” He scrubs his hand down his face.

“That’s unfortunate.”

He sits up enough to rolls his eyes at her and then lets his head collide with the bleachers again.

“Are you sure you don’t have any cookies.”

Lara Jean sighs and passes him her bag of carrots. “All I have is carrots.”

“Let’s skip.”

“What?”

Peter suddenly sits up and his knee knocks against hers. “Let’s leave. Skip the rest of the day. Go get actual food. Drive somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Peter…”

“Wait, listen to me.” His hands land on her shoulders, warmth flooding her body.

“Me and you, Covey. We can drive to the city. Go to that bakery you’ve been wanting to check out.” He says, almost pleading.

She should say no. She’s never skipped before in her life. But her heart is stupid and falling in love with the boy with stupid curls and legs too long for anyone to handle gracefully sitting in front of her.

“Okay.” She says.

Peter’s face lights up and he grabs her hand, leading them down the bleachers, barely giving her enough time to grab her bookbag.

He doesn’t let her hand go as they race across campus toward the parking lot, and he’s laughing and she’s smiling so hard it almost hurts.

Once they get to his car he spins her, his laughter infectious. Her back hits the car, and suddenly he’s so close to her she can see the stupid golden flecks in his eyes.

He’s close enough to kiss.

Which is bad, so very bad, because this is so very fake.

His eyes dart to her lips for a moment and her heart almost stops. His hand is still holding on to hers, and if she pretends for a moment, this could be real.

He could lean forward, and she could close her eyes, and they could kiss each other and…

and…

and...

His stomach growls.

Loud enough that they both jump apart, putting enough space between them that the moment is broken.

They are just Lara Jean and Peter again, two separate beings, two separate people who are totally not dating and not ever going to kiss again. Because she put it in the contract.

“Come on, Covey.” He says, unlocking the car and opening the door for her, giving her hand so she can climb in. She’s a little light headed, and her heart is still beating too fast for it be normal. He jogs around the car and jumps into his seat. “Let’s go get you some badass points.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Rollecoaster by Bleachers, aka the best song ever made. Thanks for reading!!


	3. You Got a Cute Butt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "You got a cute butt."

He really cannot be blamed. He is a 17-year-old boy, with like, the world’s hottest girlfriend, who likes to wear short skirts and tight dresses, and really, it’s not his fault.

Lara Jean is currently pacing back and forth across his room, skirt swooshing back and forth with each step.

He’s trying to focus on what’s she saying. He really is. She tends to work out her essays out loud, using him as a sounding board, but most of the time, he just has to nod and agree, not interrupt her line of thought, and she will work it out herself.

So, he takes this time to study his girlfriend. The way she chews on her lips while she’s thinking. The way she ties her hair up when she gets to a particularly difficult part of her thought process. The stretch of skin between her knee socks and her skirt.

He’s so wrapped up in her that he almost jumps when she abruptly stops and spins, the skirt flying dangerously high as she leans down to scribble something in her notebook.

Giving him an amazing view of her ass.

He wants to punch himself in the face. He wants to roll off the bed and stuff his face into the floor. He wants to be a decent human being, but his girlfriend is fucking gorgeous, and her skirt is really short, and his brain only has about one speed at the moment.

“Peter?”

He’s been caught. He’s been caught and she’s going to rip him a new one.

“You got a cute butt.” He says, just digging himself a deeper hole. But she needs to know. Before she kills him, she needs to know that wow, he loves her butt. He loves all parts of her, but she needs to know right now that she is driving him crazy.

His hands are bunched in his sheets, and he’s trying his best to look normal, like she isn’t driving him crazy, like he was totally trying to figure out her essay with her.

“Oh, my god.” She says. And then, she starts laughing. Full bodied, hysterical, beautiful laughing.

His cheeks heat up without his permission and he stuffs his pillow over his head. “Leave me alone.”

He feels the bed shift slightly. He feels her before he sees her.

She swings her leg over his lap and settles on top of him, the amazing, beautiful skirt shifting as she does.

“You got a cute face.” She says, gently prying the pillow away from him.

 “Gahhh.” He leans forward and hides his face in her shoulder. “Go ahead. Tell me off for staring at your butt. But in my defense, that skirt was designed to torture me.” He presses a small kiss to the bare skin by her collarbone, and she grabs his face, pulling his chin so she can look at him.

“Maybe I wore it on purpose.”

He really cannot be blamed. His girlfriend wants him to combust.

“Tease.”

She smiles at him before surging forward and letting her lips slide against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Dancing's Not a Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Lara Jean doesn't dance, but Peter is up to the challenge. Cuz theres dancing and then there's "dancing" :D

The summer sun is just starting it’s descent into the sky when Peter pulls out his speakers and flicks through his phone until he’s happy with his choice.

It’s just the two of them now, his friends all having left for various parties and plans, and Lara Jean is filled to the brim with the warm, happy feeling that comes with long summer nights.

Peter’s smiling at her, and her skin is still warm from the sun, and she’s happy. So, so happy.

She tilts her head back, eyes closed, and listens to the music as it fills the backyard.

There’s a sudden loss of heat on her knee where Peter’s hand was just moments ago.

She opens her eyes, and Peter is still smiling at her, but he’s standing now.

“C’mon, Covey, dance with me.” He’s moving along to he beat of the song, the sun sitting just behind his head like some kind of halo.

“I don’t dance Peter.”

His face twists in confusion for a brief second, and then, the next thing she knows he’s scooping her out of the chair and depositing her on the patio, making her lose a flip flop in the process.

“Why not?” He asks, taking her hands in his, attempting to move her along to the music as well.

Lara Jean rolls her eyes but let’s him. “Because. I’m terrible at it.”

Peter scoffs, and then he spins her unexpectedly, causing her to trip over her own feet and spin right into his chest.

“Told you.” She looks up at him from her eyelashes, and uses her position to push herself on her tip toes and press her lips against his throat.

It’s one of her favorite places to kiss him, being easier for her to reach then his mouth at times.

“If you are trying to distract me, it is working, but I still want to dance with you.” Peter’s hands tighten just slightly around her hips, and she contemplates distracting him enough that end somewhere more vertical, but the song changes, and he twirls her again, this time away from him, and she has to laugh.

This song is faster, and he’s moving more of his body now, the smile on his face growing.

“Kick off your other flip flop, and it will be easier.”

Lara Jean complies, and allows his to grab her hands again.

“Just follow my lead,” Peter says with a wink.

Lara Jean swallows her pride and takes a deep breath.

“Alright then, Kavinsky. Show me how it’s done.”

Peter’s eyes light up and then, they are moving all around his patio, and Peter’s belting out the lyrics to her, and Lara Jean is dancing and miraculously enjoying herself.

The sun continues to go down, and Peter’s hand move from hers to around her waist, and their bodies are suddenly so much closer.

She can feel every movement that he makes and it’s slightly intoxicating.

The song changes again, and then suddenly Panic! At The Disco is blasting from the speaker, and Peter spins her again, out and then in, and she lands with her back to his front.

Peter wraps one arm around her waist, and the other grabs her left hand, and he’s still singing the words to her, but now his lips are brushing against her skin.

He moves them primarily by their hips, one step forward, one step back.

Lara Jean is hit with the sudden need to find a vertical space for them to make out on again.

He rolls his entire body into hers just before he twirls her again, and this time, when he pulls her back, she uses her momentum to grab his face and pull his lips to hers.

His hands come up to cup her jaw, and he’s smiling against her lips, his body still moving along to the music.

When she pulls back for breath, he presses his lips against her hair. “We should watch Dirty Dancing tonight.”

“Only if you promise to lift me like Patrick Swayze does at some point in the future.”

“Of course.” He swings an arm around her shoulder as they make their way inside. “Thanks for dancing with me, Covey.”

“Of course.” She pushes herself up on her toes until she can press her lips against his cheek. “I’ll dance with you anytime, Peter Kavinsky.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've never really written a dancing scene before, so I hope it makes a decent amount of sense. Song they are dancing to and the title of this fic is "Dancing's Not a Crime" by Panic! at the Disco. I also listened to "Water Under the Bridge" By Adele, "Wilson (expensive Mistakes)" by Fall Out Boy, and "Fred Astaire" by Jukebox the Ghost while writing this, and I tried to imagine them dancing to the music. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here!](http://fallinfor-youreyes.tumblr.com/) My inbox is always open for prompts of if you just want to squeal about these two.


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